Another day, another murder
by em j
Summary: An investigation into the death of a young girl affects the CSIs far more personally than they had expected. Eventual GSR and CatherineWarrick.


**Ok, so I know that I haven't finished two other stories. I'm very sorry. In my mind they are not yet abandoned, but I can see how it would appear that way. One day I will come back to them. But for now I have, after many months, a new story. I like to think the actual murder case around which it centres is slightly more complex than anything else I have written, but it is still a character based story, with eventual GSR and Catherine/Warrick. It is based prior to the end of season six, i.e. Grissom and Sara are not together. I hope you enjoy it, and please review. **

**Em xx**

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* * *

**As the sun set behind the trees, a beautiful scene was being set. It was a clear evening, warm and dry. People strolled through the park, taking advantage of the weather. Children ran down the paths, watched over by relaxed parents. Dogs played on the lawns whilst their owners kept watchful eyes. For most people, life that evening was perfect; the park, to the naked eye, a microcosm of an ideal society: stress-free, tranquil and untouched by the hassles of everyday life. 

But things are not always what they seem.

Within the dense woodland that surrounded the park a very different scene was being enacted. A girl was meeting her end. Within the very same park as all those people, but out of view, she lay taking her last breaths, her gasping cries for help going unnoticed amid the cries of happy children and barks of dogs.

And when everyone had left the park, children gone to bed, parents watching television, and the only people left were wandering vagrants and drunks, still she lay there, her body growing cold. Amidst the normality, something horrific had happened. For one girl, the day had been anything but normal.

Another day, another murder.

* * *

"So, what've we got?" 

Sara Sidle lifted the police tape and ducked underneath, holding it up for Nick Stokes to follow. At the sound of her voice, Gilbert Grissom moved from his position crouched over the body and stood up, turning to face her and Nick, squinting as the sun, rising behind them, hit his eyes.

"Young girl, aged between 16 and 18, as yet unidentified. It appears she died as a result of a blow to the head, but that's all we know as yet. We're getting the body moved to the morgue asap."

Sara moved over to the body to take a closer look.

"There's blood on the bottom of her jacket. Doesn't look like it can have come from her head wound, but I can't see any other injuries. Likelihood is-"

"It's the blood of our killer." Nick finished the sentence for her.

"Exactly. And that would be consistent with her fingernails – looks like she put up a good fight." Sara took a swab of the blood. "We better get this to Greg."

"I'll take it now – I have to get back to the lab." Grissom packed up and got ready to leave. "I'll leave you guys to finish up here."

"So you get here first, call Sara and me, and then leave us to do all the hard work."

"Sounds about right. Can't have me getting my hands dirty now can I? I'll see you guys later."

* * *

Later that day the whole team were back in the lab, assembled around a table, photos of their latest victim spread out in front of them. 

"I got an ID," Catherine Willows began. "Catrin Markham, aged 17. Parents reported her missing at 8 last night. She never returned from school. They couldn't get through to her on her mobile and none of her friends had seen her. They got worried and called the police. Seems they were right to panic."

"Well, we've got a bit more info from the preliminary post mortem," Grissom went on. "Death was immediate, due to a blow to the head by a blunt object. But it looks like there was a tussle beforehand. Presence of skin under her finger nails indicates she put up a fight and there are a few contusions to her skin consistent with a struggle."

"I tested the blood sample you gave me," Greg interrupted. "I got DNA but no matches on the database."

"Damn," Sara responded. "I was hoping this case would be cut and dry. Blood, DNA, arrest, and I'm out of here by teatime. Or should I say breakfast time." She corrected her phrasing, remembering that they worked night shifts. Somehow in the lab time seemed irrelevant. She glanced at her watch. "Seems I've already missed breakfast, actually."

"You got somewhere better to be?" Grissom asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Fat chance," replied Sara, sounding slightly aggrieved. "Just fancied an early night, that's all."

"Glad to hear it. By the looks of things we're going to need you here, so we can't have you having other, more pressing matters."

Sara rolled her eyes. "God forbid I should have something better to do than work."

Grissom glanced at her across the table, a look that said _'you done?' _Sara looked away.

"So," Grissom went on, cutting the palpable atmosphere in the room like a knife. "Catherine and I are going to pay a visit to Catrin's parents. Greg, you've got a lot more evidence to process. Nick, Warrick – and Sara," he turned to face her but she avoided his eye. "I want you back on the scene. There may be more, and the body's been removed now. And I want you to widen the search, find out if there may have been any witnesses. Alright?"

"Sure," the team murmured in unison.

Grissom stood to leave and Catherine followed. Collecting up the photographs, Warrick and Greg left after them. Only left in the room were Nick and Sara.

"You alright, Sara?"

"Yeah, fine," she replied curtly.

"It's just you sounded a little aggravated back there."

"Doesn't it get to you?"

"What?"

"The way he assumes that we have absolutely nowhere to be and nothing to do, except here and working."

"Well, do we?"

"Excuse me?"

"Have anything better to do."

"That's not the point. And anyway, the whole reason I have no life outside of this lab is because I never have any time to do anything except work and sleep. And the reason I have no time-"

"It's a vicious circle. I know. But we signed up for that when we chose the job."

"I refuse to believe that all CSIs live like we do."

"It's not that bad."

Sara rolled her eyes, but had no time to reply, as Warrick stuck his head around the door.

"You two coming?"

* * *

"Mrs Markham, we are so sorry for your loss." 

Catherine did the talking. Whilst his scientific prowess could not be doubted, Grissom's communication skills often left a lot to be desired. He seemed to get on better with bugs than people.

"Please come in." Mrs Markham pulled the door open. "My name's Judy and my husband is Peter." She remained composed as she led Catherine and Grissom through to the living room but Catherine could tell she had been crying.

Grissom noted that the Markham's were certainly well off. Mrs Markham's clothing was designer and their house was nothing if not extravagant. As they entered the living room, Mr Markham turned around from his position on a plush sofa.

"Honey, we have visitors from the crime lab."

Mr Markham did not respond, but Catherine noted him give what appeared to be an angry look to his wife.

"They just want to ask a few questions." Her tone was defensive, and slightly nervous.

"We're sorry to have to disturb you at such a troubling time, Mr Markham, but I can assure you all we want is to catch Catrin's killer."

"I can tell you who did this."

"Oh?" Grissom's attention was caught. He stopped scanning the room, attempting to build an image of the Markham's family life, and focused on Mr Markham. "Would you care to share your theory?"

"It's obvious. It was him. Andrew Dowell. Catrin's boyfriend." He spat the last word, as though the thought of his teenage daughter being in a relationship disgusted him. But Grissom's interest seemed to fade upon Mr Markham's words, as though he had been hoping for something a little less predictable than the teenage girl's boyfriend.

Mrs Markham moved over to her husband and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Peter, I told you. You can't go round making accusations like that. I know you don't like Andy-"

Mr Markham stood up, angrily throwing his wife's hand from his shoulder.

"It's not that I don't like him! He was bad for Catrin. Why are you always defending him? You know as well as I do that he was having a bad influence on her. She was a good girl, never stepped out of line. But him, on the other hand-"

"Would you care to expand on that, Mr Markham?" Catherine prompted.

"She was talking about leaving school early. He wanted her to travel around the world with him."

"Never what a parent wants to hear," Catherine commented.

"It would never have happened," responded Mrs Markham. "She's just a silly little girl with big ideas." All of a sudden she stopped and Catherine saw her eyes fill up. "I mean- she was." Another angry look from Mr Markham and his wife hastily wiped the moisture from her eyes. Catherine interrupted the awkward moment.

"Do you know where we can contact Andrew?"

"Catrin will have his address somewhere in her room," replied Mrs Markham. "I'll just go find it for you."

"Thank you."

Mrs Markham left the room and her husband hastily followed. He pulled the door shut but this failed to disguise the sound of angry whisperings as the couple headed upstairs.

"Not exactly a happy marriage, then."

"Huh?" Grissom was distracted, wandering around the room and admiring the artwork on the walls. Before Catherine had time to repeat her comment, he went on: "Some of the stuff they've got hanging in here wouldn't be out of place in the Met. These paintings must be worth a fortune."

"Well, I don't get the feeling they're exactly hard up. But money doesn't equal happiness."

"That's lucky, because if it did there would be a hell of a lot of manic depressives in this world."

"There are," replied Catherine grimly. "And we seem to deal with half of them."

Grissom mumbled something non specific, still gazing at a picture on the wall.

"Anyway, as I was saying, don't you sense there's something up between these two?" Catherine went on.

"Can't say I've noticed."

"That's probably because you've been too busy examining their living room."

Grissom glanced over at her, hearing a trace of anger in her voice. But Catherine was smiling.

"That's why you bring me, huh? Someone who can stay focused on an interviewee for more than ten seconds."

Before Grissom had time to comment on the implication that he had a short attention span, Mr and Mrs Markham re-entered the room.

"Here," Catherine was handed a piece of paper. "I think this is the address of the flat where Andy was staying."

Mr Markham interrupted his wife. "Don't expect to find him there though. Not one for settling down was Andrew." The disapproval in his voice was blatant. "Always scrounging beds off other people. He even tried to stay the night here once or twice!"

"I'm presuming you didn't agree."

"Of course not! It would be inappropriate for a 17 year old girl to have any boy stay over, let alone one like Andrew. He was a nasty piece of work, and all I can say is that I hope you catch him sooner rather than later."

Catherine saw Mrs Markham open her mouth to protest, but she obviously thought better of it, and stopped herself before speaking. Instead she moved over to the door.

"Let me show you out, if that's everything for now. I appreciate your need to speak to us, but as you said earlier, this is a very difficult time-"

"I understand, Mrs Markham. Andrew's address gives us something to be getting on with for now, but I expect we will be in contact again in the next couple of days. Grissom?"

He pulled his eyes away from an expensive vase which was sitting on the mantelpiece and moved over to the door to join Catherine.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Markham," Catherine called out as they left the room, but she received no reply. As they headed for the front door, she handed Mrs Markham a piece of paper.

"Judy – it is alright if I call you that, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course."

"Here's the number of the crime lab, and my direct telephone number underneath. If you think of anything else you could tell us about Catrin that might be of some use-"

"Yes, yes, of course I'll call."

But Catherine wasn't convinced she would. At some point she was going to have to speak to Mrs Markham alone, without her husband's influence.

As the front door closed behind them, she turned to Grissom.

"Something has gone on here."

"Yes- a murder."

"I know that, Gil." Catherine rolled her eyes at him. "I mean there's something Mr and Mrs Markham aren't telling us." The two got into the car. "I don't think this is going to be a clear cut case."

Grissom smiled grimly. "Sara will be disappointed."


End file.
